


The Girl Who Knew The End

by bluebellhairpin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death Fix, Derogatory Language, Enemies to Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellhairpin/pseuds/bluebellhairpin
Summary: (y/n) (l/n) lived a normal life, in a world much like our own ‘modern world’. But then she was inexplicably thrust into Middle-Earth, and land much different from her own. She comes to understand that she needs to find Thorin and his Company, before they leave for Erebor. The only explanation as to why she’s here lies with them and the bloodline of the Son’s of Durin.
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Reader, Thranduil/Thranduil's Wife
Kudos: 13





	1. An Uninvited Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Again, another Tumblr repost! This time I'm thrusting forwards my old Hobbit phase - and possibly re-surface it. Yay! - Nemo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were cast into Middle Earth, worlds away from your home and family, to find yourself stuck on the wrong side of a set of Mountains and following the advice of the wizard know as Gandalf. After a long and unyielding journey to Bag End, you find yourself stuck. The leader of the group doesn’t seem you fit to join them in the one thing you believe you were sent for; To keep the line of Duirn alive after the Battle of Five Armies.

You had no idea what you were supposed to do while you were here, all you knew was that you served a purpose. So when you crossed paths with Gandalf just near The Brown Lands, you were surprised to find he was almost clear in stating where you needed to go. 

Which just so happened to be Bag End, over the other side of the map that was supplied in the bag that showed up next to you when you woke. Also in your ‘magic bag’ was a few months worth of salted meat and bread, a sword, a dagger, and a picture of the family you left behind in your old world. 

You also, just-so-happened, to have woken up in clothes fit for a cold cross-country trip. You had leather fur arm wraps, knee-high combat boots and a hooded cloak, both also lined with fur, a black surcoat, and thick woolen leggings. They all came in very handy on your trip, considering the cold days, and even colder nights. 

You soon found your way over the Misty Mountains, towards Bree, and by the time you’d made it to Bag End on the night Gandalf said you should be there by, you had already quite a journey and story to tell. 

As you entered the parlor of the Hobbit-Hole, you walked through the east hall into the atrium the dwarfs in your eye line went silent. You were relieved to see that everyone - including Gandalf and Thorin - had arrived already, and Thorin had been given the key to Lonely Mountain. Bilbo followed their gazes and looked over at you, as did Thorin and Gandalf, the other dwarfs moved to try and see you better.

“And who might you be?” Bilbo asked, already irritated from his unexpected guests, but by the dwarfs reaction he guessed you were definitely uninvited, and therefore was even less pleased. 

“She’s here to help.” Gandalf said as he sat back up. You walked to stand next to Thorin’s unoccupied side. 

“Exactly.” You nodded, smiling lightly thinking about how amazing it was to be with all these dwarfs in person instead of behind a screen. It was awesome, in the most awe-inspiring way. “I’m here to help you take back the Mountain.”

“Why might we need your help?” Thorin started, ruining your pleasant mood and standing to loom over your newly shrunken body. “You aren’t a dwarf, too small, too weak. You’re no Hobbit either. What could you possibly do to help us?” You eyed Thorin, wondering if he was really being so hostile to a stranger. 

“I know how your story ends, Thorin Oakenshield,” you hissed, leaning your head back. Dwarfs really were stubborn creatures, “And I wouldn’t have traveled all the way from The Brown Lands to help you if I didn’t think I could help properly. Gandalf wouldn’t have told me to come if he thought I was too weak or small.” All eyes then turned to Gandalf, of which was pretending he hadn’t quite heard you.

“I’ve already told you she’s here to help.” he said promptly after a once over of the group. 

“I vote for her coming!” Fili said, a smile cracking onto his face as he playfully hit his brother on the shoulder. “We could use a pretty lass in amongst us.” 

“I’ll have you know I don’t want to be objectified. I might be the only woman coming on this journey, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone here degrade me.” You said bitterly, looking over at the two younger dwarves with stern eyes, a quiet falling into the group as the laughter died down. 

“I don’t wish to sound like I’m doing what you just asked me not to do, but I want you to know that I think you are really, really pretty.” Ori said shyly, breaking the silence after you spoke. You breathed out a laugh, shaking your head as you stuffed your hands beneath your sword belt. 

“Thanks Ori.” The Company went into an uproar once more, partially out of frustration and annoyance that Ori was the first to tell you his thoughts - and the apparent truth, and partially out of confusion as to how you knew his name even though you just got here. 

“What is your name, as what skills would you bring? Apart from ‘knowing how my story ends’?” Thorin asked, and you turned your attention away from the bickering dwarfs to answer.

“My name is (y/n), of Tharbad. I can use a sword well, I’m a quick thinker, and I can hold my own in a fight-”

“Fight against what? An elf?” he asked, making your eye twitch in frustration. Why did he hate you so much? Was he really that emotionless when it came to others? Gandalf noticed your dilemma and the stubbornness of the King and intervened for you. 

“Not elves, but she has had her fair share of orcs and trolls.” he said as you turned away slightly to regain your composure, missing the slight flashes of hurt and regret on Thorin’s face before he spoke.

“I didn’t know.” Thorin said.

“You couldn’t have known. It’s not like you know me.” You replied, letting out a short laugh.

“So is she coming?” Bilbo asked, popping himself into Thorin and your conversation. “Because I’d feel more comfortable coming with someone who knows what’s going to happen coming too.” He finished. Thorin took a few more moments to think, looking you up and down as he did so. 

“I guess she can. The worst she could do to us is die.” 

“I can see how grateful you are to my offer, Thorin. I shall take my leave instead of staying around.” you said and made your way back out of Bilbo’s house and into the crisp night air, Bilbo himself coming after you almost pleading with you to stay or make everyone else leave with you. 

“Get her back here Thorin.” Gandalf said, peering down at the dwarf with narrowed eyes.

“Why should I? She’ll be nothing but trouble, even if she can hold her own in battles.” Thorin said, his irrationality kicking in again. 

“You need her. You yourself noted she was neither Hobbit or Dwarf, and have you seen a human that small before?” With Gandalf’s explanation Thorin seemed to slowly understand. “She is not of this world. She was sent from another specifically to help you reclaim Erebor and keep those close to you safe until then. She’s suffered at the hands of this world’s forces to be here tonight, if that alone isn’t enough reason to let her stay with you then you have a denser skull than I remembered.” 

Thorin looked over a Balin, of which was listening to Gandalf’s words and nodded at Thorin to go after you. He clenched his jaw, let out a yell of frustration, then stormed out to push past Bilbo towards where you went. 

“(y/n), wait.” Thorin said, catching up to you a little ways down the path. You turned, your eyes flashing (e/c) from under your fur hood, daring the king to speak again. “You will come with us as Gandalf is advising, and… I’ll try to act more agreeable towards you.” He explained, his eyes falling to the hem of your surcoat as he stood up straighter. 

“Less like a jerk, more like a King, you mean?” you said, tilting your head as a light smirk reached your lips. 

“I suppose so.” Thorin said through gritted teeth. He sensed you’d be the death of him; of he of you if you both kept this up. “Especially if you decide to be nice in turn.”

“Oh, your majesty, I’m only nice to those who give me a reason to.” Thorin tenced more at your quip, feeling his frustration rise as did his urge to yell at you to leave again. You noticed this, your smirk widening. “Careful there King Thorin, you might blow a fuse again.” you said, walking passed him and back towards Bilbo’s.

“If you want to vex me more I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you turned, facing the equally angry dwarf, of which was now eye-level to you from the hills slope. “You’ll let - no, force - me to leave and let your fate, and the fate of the rest of the Company reach the same end that I’ve seen, and trust me - you don’t want what’s coming!”

“Well what choice do you give me when you act like such a nettler.” 

“Says he who is nothing but a prig.” your comment silenced Thorin, your eyes locked in a fierce hold. “You may be a king but that doesn’t mean you can be pardoned for acting so horrendously. Even so I will strike a deal with you, for the fate I see coming is one that won’t affect you so greatly.” 

Back in your world you liked Thorin quite a bit, but if he was going to act like such a prick you decided at that moment that you wouldn’t care much if he died.

Your words hurt Thorin. Gandalf said you were here to help and keep those of the Company safe - you knew their future - if you were saying that he wasn’t going to be affected it must’ve ment someone else. That alone made him more lenient. 

“What do you suggest then?”

“A truce, of sorts.” you started with a shrug, meeting Thorin’s blue eyes once more. “We shan’t speak unless completely necessary, travel at separate ends of the party, and sleep as far away from each other as we can. Limited contact should make you more bearable.” You finished with a half-smile of sorts. 

“I’d have to agree. It sure sounds inviting.” Thorin returned the smile slightly.

“We have a deal then?” you asked, sticking your hand out for him to shake. He grabbed hold of your hand, holding it a little too tight.

“Deal.”


	2. Lullaby of Woe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few days journey, the Company stopped at the place you recognize as the place where Balin tells the story of how Thorin gained the name ‘Oakenshield’. This eventually leads you you telling a story of your own, one that gets Thorin really thinking about how he ought to be treating you. 
> 
> Song: ‘Lullaby of Woe’ by Marcin Przybyłowicz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the song is from The Witcher, I do know this. - Nemo

You had been traveling with Thorin and the Company for a while now, both yours and Thorin’s temper flaring a good handful of times already, the Company were starting to quietly bet on how long it’d take for your bickering to turn into banter, then to turn into full-blown make-out sessions. The tension sure was building towards and end like that.

You had stopped for the night, resting under a rocky crevice, Thorin was set to start on first watch with Fili and Kili before you took over with Dwalin and Ori. You decided to stay up with them, the story Balin would tell would be one you decided you’d rather not miss. 

As Balin started the story of how Thorin gained the name Oakenshield, the dwarf in subject wandered off to face the cliff. You watched, as everyone did, and found yourself standing with the rest of the company out of respect for your leader and king. You knew orcs, they’d caused you pain, physical and emotional; they’d left scars - physical and emotional - on you too that wouldn’t go away. 

You’d always respect Thorin for what he went though - even if he was a jerk. 

As Thorin joined the group back from the cliff face he previously stood on, you got another ‘revelation’.

Your head hurt when major events of the films occurred. You walked over to the cliff where Thorin once was, looking over around the place the small groups of orcs were. You had to swallow the bile rising is your throats at the sight of the flashing eyes of their wolfish steeds; the same ones that cause you all that pain. 

You looked back at Gandalf, of which had sensed your revelation and was keeping a keen eye on you since. Your face had gotten paler, Gandalf was worried, but he’d come to understand that the revelations you got couldn’t be shared.

No matter what happened, you could never share what was to come. 

“My (y/n), you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Bofur said from a way across the camp. Unlike Gandalf, the Company didn’t yet fully understand the lengths of your revelations, so you had to make up reasons as to why you suddenly looked so shocked, ecstatic, or somber. 

“Oh i-it’s nothing Bofur. I just remember something from my world.”

“Must’ve been something’ pretty scary. A tale of sorts?” Bofur proded, some of the other Company soon turned to face you.

“Oh no, it was just a… Um, a lullaby.” you said, racking through the leftover knowledge in your mind for an excuse that would be believable. Of all things, you had to say a lullaby. 

“Lullabies aren’t generally scary.” he said, taking a puff of his pipe smugly, thinking he caught you. 

“This one is. It’s meant to get children to stay inside at night.” You said, turning your head away slightly to curse yourself at weaving a web that you might not get out of.

“Huh, what’s it called?”

“The Lullaby of Woe.” you said slowly, remembering a more scary lullaby from a game you played once. 

“Sounds morbid. And fake.” Thorin said, now having taken his place near Fili and Kili again. You narrowed your eyes at him. You’d give him fake. 

“I would sing it for you, but you’d hardly be grateful if I did.” The Company went into light uproar, not having anything but Balin and Gandalf’s stories, and Bofur’s songs over the past couple nights, a lullaby from you - even a scary one - sounded like a nice change to them. 

“Oh please (y/n). I’ll even sit in front of Uncle if you want, then you won’t even have to see him.” Fili offered with a smile. 

“Sounds nice Fili.” You laughed, the company now gathering in their sleeping packs to hunker down and listen to your lullaby.

“Wolves asleep amidst the trees, bats all a swaying in the breeze, but one soul lies anxious wide awake, fearing no manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths.” 

You started, carefully singing as your eyes traveled over the group, seeing some already stiffening at your sung words. 

“For your dolly Polly sleep has flown, don’t dare let her tremble alone. For the witcher, heartless, cold, paid in coin of gold. He comes he’ll go leave naught behind but heartache and woe. Deep, deep woe.” 

Thorin watched you as you sang, your lips moving with purpose, you paused in your singing with such wispy grace, he wondered if the lullaby might be a summoning song instead. What if you were actually here to kill them? To lure them all in with your sweet song? Thorin shook his head. 

Gandalf knew many people, but none were like that, not even you.

“Birds are silent for the night, cows turned in as daylight dies. But one soul lies anxious wide awake, fearing no manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths. My dear dolly Polly shut your eyes, lie still, lie silent, utter no cries. As the witcher, brave and bold, paid in coin of gold.” 

You slowly stood, walking around the camp as you sang, making your voice echo off the rocks, the sound richoching down the cliff and across the valley into the ears of the still waiting Orcs. They were chilled at your song. 

As far as they knew you were speaking of your own story, the witcher was you, and as far as your sung words said you weren’t afraid of anything horrible, even them. 

“Send one more word to Master, the Dwarf scum travel with a powerful being. Let him know this now so he can prove to that pathetic King that he can kill such ones with ease.”

“He’ll chop and slice you, cut and dice you. Eat you up whole, eat you whole.” 

You sung the last word with force, letting your words rattle poor Dwalin’s unsuspecting ears. The dwarf shot up from his sleeping position to then face your laughing face with a scowl. 

“Lass, I’d never do that again if I were you.” he warned, only making you laugh more, Fili and Kili almost in stitches at the look on Dwalin’s face when you scared him moments before. Even Thorin, having been watching you still from when you started singing, cracked a smile. 

“Trust me Dwalin, there are much worse things than a Lullaby to be scared of right now.” You said, a breathless laugh escaping you as you patted his shoulder and moved back to your own sleeping space. 

“You could say that again (y/n).” Gandalf said quietly, nestling himself back into a sleeping position before tipping his hat over his eyes. “You can say that again.” 

Thorin looked over to watch you as you also settled down, he kept looking between you and the fire to try and make it look like he wasn’t staring. After that song, that lullaby, it was almost as if he saw you in a new light, like one switch of many was suddenly turned on inside his mind which enabled him to really see you. Sure, he’d seen you before, but only superficially, not like this. 

It suddenly occurred to him that you had a life back where you came from, a family, friends, maybe even a lover or children. You’d been through hell to get to Bilbo’s that night, only for him to treat you like you were nothing. Now he felt pretty bad about it, regretted it even, and felt the strange need to make it up to you. 

He didn’t really know how. He didn’t know what you liked. Mahal - he wasn’t going to apologise - he figured you wouldn’t appreciate that a whole lot. He thought about getting you something Dwarrowdam’s liked - but you weren’t a dwarf, so the chances of you liking what he’d find you were slim. He then seemed to be hit with an epiphany; you wanted to go home, the place you’d be sent back to once your purpose (whatever it was) was fulfilled. 

He’d help you fill your lot in your sudden change of life, he’d help get you home to where you wanted to be most, with the people you wanted to be with them most.

Surely you’d forgive him after that, even without an apology.


	3. 'I Was With Child'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for Bilbo to be (almost) eaten by trolls. As it turns out, movies don’t convey exactly how disgusting the bags the dwarfs were placed in were. You decided to buy yourself and the others some time by completely faking becoming a mother… Or were you not lying?

“I hate this part.” you mumbled to yourself, hiding in the bushes behind Fili and Kili as you watched Bilbo try and release the stolen ponies. 

The brothers gave you a strange look, but by now you were used to those looks, just as they were used to you blurting out random incoherent sentences in the middle of random conversations. 

“Fili, go get the others. We’ll need them soon.” you said, hitting the blond dwarf in the direction back towards your camp. He obeyed. 

“What would we need the others-” Kili started, looking back at you before turning at the sound of Bilbo’s distressed yelp. You looked up at him, shaking your head from side to side as the Hobbit started conversation with the trolls. 

“You’re getting good at this.” Kili said, smirking back at you before unsheathing his sword and stepping out of the bushes. The others came up behind you soon after, then you were lurched into a fight with the giant beings. Well, they looked awfully giant to you, but you guessed that would have to do with how small you were now. 

They’d probably be less intimidating if you were a normal human height. 

The battle was short-lived, just like you remembered, and soon you were all being packed up into bags. You didn’t want to be put into a bag, they looked far too dirty, and no doubt you’d end up underneath one of the larger members of the Company, or worse - stuck on top of Thorin. Not something you were looking forward to. 

The dumb troll moved to pick you up, you stepped back as it’s hands came closer, racking through your mind for some excuse as to why you shouldn’t be bagged up. 

“Wait, no! You can’t put me in one of those!” you yelled, now squirming in the trolls hand. He looked at you with a sideways head-tilt.

“Why not? You’ve got nothin’ special about you.”

“I-I do! I’m not like the others, you couldn’t even eat me yet.” One of the smarter trolls looked over, noticing the extra fight you were putting up.

“Why wouldn’t we eat you yet? A dwarrowdam is more tasty than a dwarf.” He said.

“A-Ah, that’s the thing. I’m…” you swallowed, thinking of something women could do that men couldn’t. Then it hit you. “I’m with child!” you blurted.

“Meaning you’re extra, extra tasty. More meat on you.” The smarter troll took you from the dumber one, grabbing some ropes to add you to the spit where two others were already tied up.

“No, wait, wait! Just think! Once I get bigger and give birth you’d have an extra dwarf to eat. I’ve heard dwarflings are even more delicious than dwarrowdam’s.” you spoke quickly, wasting no time in trying to lie you’re way out of being eaten.

“And why wouldn’t we still tie you up with the others?” The troll asked.

“Because… Tying me up would restrict the growth of the child.” you bluffed, knowing all you needed to buy more time. Gandalf would be here at daybreak if you couldn’t leave to retrieve him sooner, and Bilbo would help even more later. “If I’m not tied up then the child will be bigger.” you added, nodding as if to convince them.

The trolls seemed to buy your excuse and put you down in the pen with the ponies. You looked over at the pile of dwarves and Bilbo, catching Thorin’s eye as you slowly moved towards the back of the pen in hopes you could just slip away to get help. The trolls were too busy trying to stop one of the dwarfs from squirming to notice you slide out of the pen and back further into the forest. 

Thorin watched you, his mind telling him you were slipping away to save your own skin, but his heart told him to stay silent and wait. Even though he thought you disliked him with a fiery passion, you held both his nephews in high regard, and became almost like a daughter to Balin. He believed you wouldn’t leave those you liked to die simply because you thought one person you disliked deserved it. 

You managed to find Gandalf within the next half hour, and you managed to watch on as he saved the others without risking your own skin again. Once the trolls were stone, you set to quick work of helping the others out of their restraints. 

You’d already unbagged Fili, and Dwalin when you reached Thorin. He looked at you intently as you worked on the bag.

“How’d you come up with that idea? To fake yourself being with child?” he started, “If Gandalf didn’t save us and we were stuck, you’d only prolong your own suffering.” Once he finished you were also finished with his bag, letting him get himself out fully as you leant back on a stone.

“I was with child, at one point in my journey here.” you mumbled, “Technically it wasn’t mine, but by the time our time together ended it seemed like he was.” You played with your hands as he looked over you with a slightly shocked face.

“How? What happened?” He seemed genuinely interested, and you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach that made you want to share everything with him. 

“I was passing through the Misty Mountains, and came across a cave where others had taken shelter before me. The only people left from their group were a mother and her infant son.” You started, taking a deep breath to keep your emotions in check. “She begged me to take him, to keep him safe. I tried my best, but orcs always have a way of ruining everything - even promises.” 

Gandalf had said you’d come across orcs and trolls before. This was your encounter with orcs, but what about trolls? He decided to ask, leaning beside you as you both looked towards the others. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, and I don’t want to come across as prying, but what exactly happened?” He asked gently, keeping his eyes forwards and off you. 

“It was a little ways back towards the mountains from here.” you started softly, “I had Kha- the child strapped to my back, I had to tuck my pack under my arm, so I couldn’t get to my sword quickly if an attack came. I knew it was risky, but the boy couldn’t walk, he was too small, I had no other choice. Then, out of nowhere, orcs came. I found later that it was an ambush, prepared for someone else, but they got me and the child instead.” You let out a shaken sigh, eyes watering slightly, and your hands wringing each other in your lap. “Trolls came after, and in the confusion I could get away.” 

Thorin felt guilt was over him. He took in a silent breath of courage, then took one of your hands in his, letting his thumb brush over your knuckles. He felt himself relax when you didn’t object to his actions. 

You looked up at him, and he down at you. 

“I’m sorry.” He felt that it was partially his fault for the child’s death, but it was either orcs or frostbite. Orcs certainly would have been a much quicker death, frostbite would’ve been much slower since hunger and thirst would’ve come into play too. Orcs may be cruel, but they prefer the quick death of children since they weep more than they scream. 

“You wouldn’t have helped much. His death was one of those things fate decides, you can’t change that, only the way it happens.” 

Thorin and you shared a look, one that passed understanding between you both for a few long moments. He needed you, for something really was going to happen on this journey back to his homeland. You needed him - so you could get home too. 

An unspoken agreement was formed. 

You’d help each other. No more pushing each other’s buttons. No more getting on one another’s nerves. 

You’d finally get along.


	4. While We're Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin’s Company has now reached Rivendell, and (y/n) finally has some truthful light shed on her purpose in Middle-Earth.

After a nice hunt through the troll’s cave - and then being hunted yourselfs by orcs and their horrible wargs - you’d made it safely into what you recognised as an entrance to Rivendell. 

On your travels to Bag-End, you’d passed by the outer-rims of elvish territory. It looked amazing from what you distantly saw, but you weren’t really prepared for how amazing it was close-up. 

You were near the front of the group, wanting to be out of earshot of Thorin and his grumblings about the elves despite your recent agreement of further tolerance. You wanted to enjoy this, which meant not having the experience tainted by the grudge-filled king.

“(y/n),” Gandalf said, a twinkle of something unrecognizable in his eyes as he spoke, “As you remember it?” you gaped up at him for a few moments before nodding.

“Better, if I’m honest. Nothing compares to the real thing, especially if you’ve only seen it through a glass screen.” you said, and he chuckled at your words. Some of the other Company members were confused at your remark, but they were mostly used to your incoherent phrazes- if they weren’t by now there was something wrong with them. 

“Good,” Gandalf started, “I believe you might like it here.” His final comment made Thorin’s gumblings a little louder, which brought a smile to your lips. He was becoming more tolerable, or maybe you were just getting used to how he acted in general. Either way, you found yourself not minding his upset demeanor, it was more enduring than annoying now. 

A little treck further leads you and your group down to an entrance to the main building in the water-filled valley. Thorin and the other dwarves were instructed to not speak, and leave it all to Gandalf, not that they were too happy about it. 

When what you recognised as Elrond and his hunting party approach, the others all got ready in fighting stances. You rolled your eyes a little, knowing the elf lord wasn’t going to hurt them, and couldn’t help but bring yourself towards the front of the group with Thorin and Dwalin. 

You couldn’t help but be drawn to Elrond. You were led here to find answers to the map Thorin had to Erebor, but maybe he’d know about how you got to Middle-Earth, and what you needed to do to get back home. 

“Does he offer us insult?” Golin asked, pointing at Elrond as the elf’s lips twitched into a small and amused smile at the dwarfs misinterpretation of the elves native tongue.

“No, master Golin. He is offering you food.”

“Well, in that case, lead on.” And at that everyone lowered their guard again. Well, except for Thorin. You had a feeling he would be tense for a much longer time, and you didn’t even have to be an ‘all-knowing other-worldly being’ to see that. 

“Milady, I believe I haven’t yet come to know you.” Elrond said, falling in step next to you as you all were lead up the flight of stairs, Thorin a few steps behind you - busy eyeing the elf.

“I’m (y/n), from Earth.” you said, “I… I think you might be able to help me get back there.” 

“Earth?” he thought for a moment, “I think I have heard of it before. However, isn’t it a place of fiction? A realm made up by our ancestors to yield stories from?” 

“Fiction?” You repeated breathlessly, looking up to see Gandalf swaying in his steps, clearly having heard your conversation, and was almost as shocked as you. How he didn’t tell you this before was bad- very bad for you - but very in-character for him. “That can’t be right. Earth is my home, I have family there - a life there! It can’t be fictional.” 

Elrond shook his head, seemingly plunged into deep thought. 

“If anyone would know, Lady Galadriel would. But I do not wish to disturb her.” He said, looking down at you. 

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. Like you say, there’s no point disturbing her with something so strange.” You said, opposed to meeting such a higher being. Surely that’s almost like being in a room with an angel. You feared you might faint. That or Thorin might burst a vein from frustration at you seeming to like elves company more than dwarves. 

“Do you know her?” Elrond started, looking down at you, surprised, “You seem to know a little about her.”

“Um, you might say that.” You said after a few beats, and Elrond looked at you with a small hit of realisation. Nodding, he looked ahead, folding his arms behind him. 

“How about I speak to her for you? Gandalf and I need to speak to her anyway, and that way you can still get answers without having to leave your company.” You nodded at Elrond’s offer, taking a glance back at Thorin to meet his eyes. They seemed to soften when they reached yours, but you decided to play that off as a trick of the lighting.

Soon the company had all gathered for dinner, most unhappy with the food choices set out before them, but you, after such a long time eating food suited for travel, welcomed the change with almost opened arms. 

You were sitting at the end of Kili’s table, next to Bifur and Nori. You could see Thorin from where you sat and decided he didn’t look happy with Elrond and Gandalf at all - abhit relieved when Gandalf came - but still annoyed. You caught his gaze once or twice, making sure to pull a face in hopes to cheer him up or make things more bearable. It seemed to work, considering he cracked a smile once or twice.

Night fell, and you knew that by now Thorin had gone to speak with Elrond, but you decided he could do that on his own, and instead stayed with the rest of the Company, listening to their stories and joyous laughter now they were in a place where danger wasn’t so dominant over their thoughts. 

Thorin soon came back, along with the others he took with him, and Elrond and Gandalf followed behind.

“Lady (y/n), a word, please?” Elrond said, standing near the doorway. You scrambled to your feet and almost teleported over to his side with how fast you moved if it weren’t for Thorin grabbling your forearm as you went passed. 

“Thorin.” You said, voice low as you tugged your arm lightly, warning him as to what might happen if he didn’t let go. 

“Let me come with you.” he said quietly, you had to take a moment to process what he said. He wasn’t stopping you, not at all. 

“Why?” You asked, looking back at Elrond, of which was patiently waiting a little ways off.

“You might need the… Support. Just in case.” he explained. You almost couldn’t believe it. Not only two days ago Thorin wouldn’t have cared much less, and here he was offering emotional support. 

You tasted some damn good character development.

You nodded at him, and soon after he fell in step behind you as you followed the elf towards a more secluded area. 

“I spoke to Lady Galadriel. She sensed you coming, wondered how long it’d take you to reach her or us for help, advice, or guidance. She was surprised at how efficient you were at reaching Bag End in such a short time, with so many trials.” As Elrond spoke he motioned for you to sit at one of the stone benches at the balcony you’d all reached. 

Thorin came up to stand behind you, and the warmth you felt coming off him was a welcomed reassurance. You almost felt sick at what Elorld might say about you getting home.

“I myself was shocked to find out why you are here, or what Galadriel believes you’re here for.” 

“And what’s that?” Thorin said, crossing his arms and widening his stance a little more.

“To protect you.” Elrond said, looking between you and him, “Or more specifically the royal line of Durin. You and your nephews. Middle-Earth seems to have decided the fate once set for you and them is no longer suitable.” Elrond continued, speaking between both you and Thorin. “(y/n) is here to change your fates.” 

“But, how do I get home?” You asked, voice quiet and eyes wide, less concerned for Thorin and more concerned for how you could get back to your world.

“Die in battle. Sword of steel or bronze, Dragonfire, Warg, Goblin or Troll.” He said bluntly, looking dramatically across the rest of Rivendell. “But not by sicknesses, or at the hands of orcs.” 

“Pardon?” You said, almost screeching as your knuckles started turning white from holding onto the cold bench beneath you. “Do you know how many orcs we’ll run into? How many of everything you just said that we’ll run into? I could die and not have protected Durin’s line! Or worse! I could die and not go back home!” 

“Galadriel did mention that, everything in fact. But in the end you’ll be fine.” 

“How do you know that?” Thorin said, stepping around the bench to stand between you and the elf.

“She has something inside her, a power or force. I felt it before you even came into the tunnel that led you here. Almost all the high elves did. I’m guessing it was how Gandalf found her to begin with. She’ll be a great help to you, and your journey. You must only trust her.” 

Thorin looked back at you, mouth opened a little, and you felt your expression mirrored his a awful lot.

“Do you trust her?” Elrond said, looking fully at Thorin now as the dwarf looked back at him. Thorin took a few breaths, and turned back to you. 

“Yes. It’s taken a while but I do. I trust her.” He spoke with a faint smile. You guessed it might’ve been a little bigger if Elrond wasn’t here, but at this point you’ll take what you can get. You were finding Thorin to be not so bad after all. Not anymore. 

“If you’ve heard enough, I’ll be on my way. Leave you both to it.” he said.

“Thank you, Lord Elrond.” You called to the elf, Elrond nodded, smiling at you, before starting off down one of the hallways, and he didn’t look back.

“So let me get this right,” Thorin started, turning back to face you with a hand in his hair, “We run into Dragonfire? Wargs and Orcs?” he asked, looking at you from through a few strands of hair.

“You mustn’t tell the others. It could ruin everything. Even knowing yourself changes the whole game. What I do in the future might not work anymore.” You tried to explain, but your limited knowledge of what happened to them, and what you could remember from other movies back in your world about time-travel and future-seeing was, well… Limited. 

“And what he said… About my fate, and that of Fili and Kili’s. Is that true too?” You could only look at him as he spoke, mostly in fear of having said too much, but also because you didn’t want to hurt him. “I can’t believe it.”

“You must, Thorin. You have to trust me, and those around you. You don’t need to do things alone.” You said, standing and making you way over to him to rest a hand on his wrist, using your other to brush the hair away from his face. “Not anymore.”

“You really are special, aren’t you.” He said, his smile finding its way to his lips again as he slowly moved his hand to lace his fingers with yours.

“I know Thorin. Tell me something I don’t know.”


	5. Faster and Faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Thorin and his Company travel further into the Mountains, trouble arises, and just as things start to look up, they go back down again.

So the Company left Rivendell, leaving Gandalf and the last sibilance of safety behind them. 

The journey so far had been even more tiresome, since you’d all lost your ponies after being chased by the Orcs you had to go on foot. You wondered if the elves would have lent you some, and even dwelled on asking Thorin before you left, but didn’t in fear of ruining your new semi-stable relationship with him that involved a lot less arguing and a lot more smiling. 

After a few days of walking, you started finding your surroundings to be familiar. 

In a day-to-day situation, high ledges and giant rock monsters didn’t make you nervous - however that was back when they were fictional and not standing in front of you throwing boulders at each other. 

The others thought you were scared of the thunder, not knowing that the giants existed out of legends, and you were given some rather blunt comments on how much that surprised them considering everything you’d all already been through. 

Then, just as you expected, but a lot faster than Hollywood portrayed, the rock around you moved. The giants made themselves known, and you were split from the rest of the group. 

You were on Fili’s leg, not Kili’s. You’d hoped to be with the part of the group that didn’t go flying around on a giant’s limb, but apparently now you were. 

At least you knew you’d live. 

What you didn’t know was how much being smashed between the rocky leg of a giant and a cliff-face hurt. You had to move off of Fili, who had cushioned your fall nicely, but did nothing to help with your head being smacked into the rocks. 

You hissed, finding out that touching that particular part of your forehead wasn’t good since it hurt so much, pulling your hand away to see it tinted red from blood. You pictured a sizable cut running down from your hairline to the top of your right eyebrow. How flattering.

The company was making a nice fuss over Bilbo, and then Thorin. You stayed back, letting them do their thing, and then found rest with the others in the nearby cave/goblin kingdom entrance. 

You were too tired to think about the trouble you’d be in later, choosing the couple hours of sleep over looking out for the tell-tale signs of the upcoming danger. So you slept, right after Thorin fussed over getting Oin to look at your cut, but you waved them both off, saying all it needed was a clean. Thorin didn’t like that very much.

After being asleep for not long enough, you woke with a jolt, a scream being ripped from your throat amongst other yells of surprise and fear. You and the others all tumbled down a tunnel, light shifting from dark to brighter, before you landed with a groan atop Dwalin. 

You really were having a good day landing on dwarves.

You quickly stood, preparing yourself from what was to come despite the resonating throbbing in your head right before the snarls of the goblins started echoing up into your ears. 

This was going to be painful.

You were dragged along with the others, not quite timing yourself properly to get sneak away with Bilbo, so now you just had to stick it out with the dwarves and hope Gandalf still got here on time. 

You started spacing out, finding the goblins to be much more gross in real life. Not to mention they smelt like a pile of month-old corpses. But your attention was brought back to the looming mass of flesh that was the great goblin when he started urging you all to speak about why you were here.

No one in your company made more than a sigh, and the giant became a little frustrated-looking.

“Well then, if they will not talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the girl.” he said, pointing at you instead of Ori, your heart lurching into your throat. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Once the trolls started towards you, you reeled back into the group, not even wanting to be vaguely touched by these creatures. 

“Wait!” Thorin said, stepping forwards and in front of you before more goblins could properly get their hands on you. 

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain.” The great goblin said, exaggerating a bow with a vile smirk. “Acting so protective, protecting his One mayhapse?” he laughed. 

You glared up at the large gobin. Sure, Thorin was amazing - and you were starting to like the idea of being his One - but you had a world to go back to, and you were sure Thorin was worth more than you as it was. Either way it wasn’t something to be thinking about now, you had goblins to glare at.

The Goblin started on about how Azog was wanting Thorin dead - going so far as to hunting the Company - the dwarf king not liking this new information one bit, but the larger being was living for the new development. Soon the goblins were all busing themselves with gathering the torture devices, you waited for that one specific creature to start rummaging through the pile of weapons - meaning you were only a few more moments away from being reunited with Gandalf. 

Orchist was soon revealed, and you smile at how much everyone reels back, but the tables soon turn back as the great goblin starts yelling about killing the Company and beheading Thorin. 

You move Thorin back trying to get between him and the goblins but they move that little bit faster. Before you know it, Thorin is pinned to the rickety wooden boards next to you as you’re being held down too. 

You couldn’t believe things moved even faster after that. 

Gandalf arrived, shining his sword like his own ray of sunlight. You all fought free, retrieving your weapons and then running like the wind. Everything followed exactly as you remembered. Which relieved you in a way, an unexpected turn of events would surely make your head and new cut hurt more. 

After being crushed by the goblin’s giant body, the company soon after made their way out of the mountain, reliving in the taste of fresh air and sunlight. 

You all slowed your running, catching your breath as danger was out of the way - for the moment anyway - and Gandalf started counting, realizing that you were one short. 

“Where’s Bilbo? Where is our Hobbit? Where is our hobbit?!” Gandalf said, looking around the group before pointing at you. “You’d know, where is he?”

“‘You’d know’ - I can’t tell you!” You said with a frown, mocking him in your first words and crossing your arms.

“Well, where did you last see him?” the wizard asked, now addressing the whole group. 

“I think I saw him slip away, when they first corralled us.” Nori said.

“What happened exactly? Tell me!” You were starting to get surprised at how protective and worried Gandalf was getting over Bilbo. 

“I’ll tell you what happened.” Thorin started. You rolled your eyes, moving to the edge of the group. You didn’t need to stand so close to him when he was moaning about Bilbo’s loyalty again. “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He’s thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door! We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone.”

“No he isn’t.” Bilbo said, stepping from behind a tree, and after a flick of a moment was welcomed back into the group with opened arms and mouthfuls of questions. 

Your head started hurting once more, not from the cut, but from an event. 

Orcs were near, and the danger was far from over.


	6. The Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orcs have come, Azog leading them, and you decide now is a good of a time as any to try and save the Line of Durin.

You ran, Gandalf sensing the danger soon after you did, and the company after him. Setting off further down the hillside, you could hear the wargs coming up behind you, snarling and growling like an omen of impending death.

“To the trees!” You yelled, looking back at those left behind you, which consisted of Thorin and Bilbo. At least Fili and Kili were doing a good job at sticking to the goddamn script.

You stayed on the ground, waiting until everyone was in the trees before climbing up yourself. A warg bit at your ankle, and would’ve left a nasty bite mark if Thorin hadn’t reached down to grab hold of your arm to haul you up onto his branch.

“You saw this coming, didn’t you?” he asked softly, the betrayal and anger revealing the emotions behind his words. But you felt he wasn’t actually angry at you.

“I see everything. It’s my curse.” You mumbled as a reply before climbing up a branch, giving him the space you were sure he’d need.

You started searching the trees for Gandalf, knowing he’d be furthest away, and let out a small sigh, seeing he’d just sent the moth flying. Help would be here soon.

“Azog?” Thorin says, turning your direction back towards the mountains you came from, the white orc approaching slowly atop his warg. Like most things on this journey, you underestimated how blood-chilling and heart-stopping certain people and situations were,

You really needed to stop doing that.

“Do you smell it? The scent of fear? I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.” Azog said. You knew those words, you knew he was speaking of Thorin and his father, but then he spoke again in words you didn’t understand and words you wished to never remember.

“Girl, you have seated yourself with the wrong company. For This you will die, slowly, painfully. I will enjoy it very much.” Azog spoke, looking you straight in the eyes, pointing at you with what was left of his chopped-off arm, his tone filled with as much hate as it had when he was addressing Thorin. The company all looked at you, seeming to understand his words. Thorin looked up at you, nothing but fear in his eyes.

Where they scared of you…

Or for you?

Azog started yelling orcish again, and the company scrambled further up the trees, just as the wargs ran towards the trees, snapping branches in their jaws and shaking the trees so hard you almost lost your grip.

And then you’re falling. All of you were.

The trees start tipping, like a set of demonic dominos, and then you’re telling everyone to start moving again, to jump onto the final tree with Gandalf. You were all teetering on what felt like the edge of the world. Well, considering the fall would end yours and everyone else’s life, it kind of was.

The wargs started towards your group again, you looked over at Azog to see him staring right back at you. You almost felt sick. If it wasn’t for the fact you knew the others would be okay you might have been sick.

Then it hit you.

If you were here, you stayed here, fought and killed Azog, Thorin and the company wouldn’t run into him again. He wouldn’t lead the Orcs against Erebor. He wouldn’t be the death of Thorin. Even if you died with him, Thorin would still have a chance.

As you were lost in your thoughts, Gandalf had started setting pine cones on fire, the dwarves were busying themselves with making the orcs and wargs back off. You started thinking about how to go about Azog. You needed to get to him before Thorin did.

Then the tree started tipping, and you knew you needed to act. And fast.

The tree jerked to a stop, sending Ori falling but not too far. You pull yourself up, making it seem like your just getting into a safer place, but before the others could do more then yell, you stood and drew your sword, walking through the burning orange glow towards the enemy.

Your sword had fought with you before, being with you since the beginning it surely served its purpose well and efficiently, you hoped it would do as well this time too. Maybe it’s give you its name now.

You started off the tree trunk, moving slowly to begin with, then into a jog and then run as you let out a cry.

This would be it, your chance at getting home, your chance at defeating Azog, your chance at letting Thorin and the line of Durin live. You ran, nothing but your sword with you. Eyes drawn on Azog, the orc smiling at you as he roared his warg and changed at you as you came at him.

You knew what Thorin did, and you knew that wouldn’t work, so you did what you knew would.

The white warg swung his paw at you, but you lifted your sword and ran it’s blade along the muscles of its foreleg, tainting the steal a deep red, the beast howling out in pain, but Azog made it keep moving.

You could hear Ori struggling, and the other dwarves trying to help him and Dori or you. You regained your stance again, Azog with his back to the company and you took a moment to look back at them.

Your eyes instantly found Thorin’s. He stayed back, watching, waiting. You knew he wanted to move, to help, but you also knew he stayed back for a reason. You remember telling him that you always do things for a reason, and that if you needed help you’d ask, but to never - under any circumstances - to help without you first asking, to intervene with what you were doing.

That time you spent looking back at Thorin was a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because in that moment you knew, it wasn’t you they feared when Azog was speaking before. If it was, the look in Thorin’s eyes would be different. They all feared for you.

Because Azog wanted you dead too.

A curse because it gave Azog the perfect amount of time to lay a heavy hit on your shoulder with his mace. You twist around, falling to the ground with an unceremonious yell, clutching your new sore spot in hopes that the weapon didn’t cut through your clothes and into your skin. The red stain didn’t reassure you at all.

You suddenly found yourself wishing that you accepted Oin’s medical assistance before. Now you had two throbbing cuts.

You made your way back to your feet in time for Azog’s warg to sink his teeth into your side, but you made sure to never let go of your sword.

You heard the company all yell out your name, and you hoped Bilbo would still be brave for you. You hoped that he’d still come to save you if you couldn’t save yourself.

With gritted teeth you managed to lift your sword, hitting the warg on the underside of its jaw before it could get its teeth into you anymore. The hit from the blade sent the warg roaring again, and you were dropped to the ground. You stood, hissing slightly at the new punctures in your abdomen, but ignored them as you raised your blade up at Azog again.

”You should stop moving, you’re only prolonging your suffering.” Azog snarled at you, speaking again, and you cursed yourself for not learning their language when you could’ve.

He reared his warg, moving to swing at you again with his mace, but you turned away in time to miss it, instead grabbing a knife from your boot to throw it at him. You aimed for the head, but your pain-filled mind meant it’d only reached his shoulder.

The shoulder of his full arm.

“Your head will be mine! I’ll hang it from the highest cliff in Erebor!” Azog yelled out, seeming to curse you, and you almost regretted injuring him due to how angry he’d become.

The next moments all blurred together.

One second you’re standing - sword still in hand, then one of Azog’s warg riders is next to you and aiming his weapon right at you, and then Thorin.

Wait, Thorin?

You looked up at him, him having come over as soon as Azog started his spiel about how angry he was at you. Azog must’ve said some graphic stuff to get Thorin to move out of what you’d told him to do. He looked angry too, but you were a little confused as to why.

You brushed off all thoughts about why he was here, deciding to have a go at him later, and you started fighting too.

You both were taking hits as you received them, Bilbo soon joining, along with Dwalin, Fili and Kili. You tried your best to take hits for Thorin too, putting yourself in numerously life-threatening situations, but you found yourself not caring.

And you weren’t doing it just to protect him to get you home. You were doing it for another reason too. But you weren’t quite sure why.

You were about to take another hit, but the orc was ripped from your view. You followed where he went to see he was thrown off the cliff, more orcs and wargs following.

The eagles were here. You had a chance to rest.

Just as the orcs threat was gone, the eagles started picking you all up.

Azog came rushing at you and Thorin, hoping to get one last hit in, but Thorin pulled you running straight off the cliff.

What a impulsive oaf.

Both you and he landed on the back of an eagle.

“You filth! Both of you! I’ll have your blood spilt, mark my words earth-shiftier!” Azog yelled, anger could be seen on his face even though you were retreating to a safer place. You finally took the time to relax, exhaustion and pain catching up to you.

“It’s okay (y/n), rest now. I’ll wake you when we land. If was land.” He said, pulling you onto the eagle more, and capturing you in between his hold and the feathery back of the giant bird. You nodded, letting your eyes close, finally feeling safe again, even though you knew it wouldn’t last.


	7. From Enemies, to Friends, to Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a near-death experience Thorin takes things into his own hands. Turns out he’s a little bad about giving you orders, but at least the sour turns sweet soon after.

You woke to someone shaking your shoulder, and a tingling sensation in your shoulder, torso and forehead.

“(y/n)! Come on, (y/n) wake up.” You rolled your head over to the left, seeing that you’d all already landed on the lone cliff, the eagles all already flown off, and your head was resting in Thorin’s lap.

He was the one shaking you, and telling you to wake. You guessed Gandalf had done some of his sparkly wizard stuff, seeing as he was stepping back. That’d explain why your wounds weren’t hurting as much - if at all - anymore. You started sitting up, and Thorin moved to help you more.

Oin had come close, looking over your wounds just to make sure you’d be okay to keep traveling, but you were distracted.

Erebor was ahead, and looked absolutely stunning.

“(y/n), look at me.” Thorin started, pulling you out of the trance the Mountain had pulled you under, and moved you to face him with one calloused hand. “I can understand that you’re here to protect my nephews and myself, but I don’t want you pulling anything like that again. It’s too dangerous, and I’ve… I’ve come to understand that although you shine like a thousand stars when fighting, I don’t want you getting hurt.’’

You frowned, moving to sit up on your own. 

“I don’t understand. This whole trip is full of times when i could get hurt.’’ you said quietly. He sighed and ran a hand over his beard.

“The next stop we come to, I want you to stay at. You’re not coming with us anymore.’’ he said, your eyes widening in realization, then narrowing.

“Thorin, if you think for one second that-”

“I’m not arguing about this (y/n), not with you’’ he shook his head and stood. You quickly following suit, stumbling a little. You didn’t miss the way he stopped himself from wanting to catch you, even though you didn’t fall. He cared.

He cared about you. But he had a horrible way of showing it.

That or the Dragon Sickness had started to creep it’s hold onto him already. You shook your head at the thought. It couldn’t have. You weren’t even near the outskirts of Mirkwood yet. 

Hours passed, and as night broke you found yourself in the safety of Beorn the skin-changer.

After your day and the sudden healing, you found yourself quickly finding a place to settle down and sleep in. However, a certain dwarf decided he still wanted to talk.

“(y/n), about earlier,” Thorin started, sitting himself down where you were laying, “I-I’m sorry?” You narrowed your eyes up at him.

“Are you sure?” you asked, a flicker of a smirk reaching your mouth before you returned to your serious stature.

“Yes, I am, actually. I had time to think. You know, not just right after you almost- after you- after I thought you were-”

“Dead?” you said, abruptly stopping his stuttering. He nodded and you shuffled yourself up to rest your head against his shoulder. “Cause honestly, it seems like it takes more than a few orcs to kill this gal.” He let out a light laugh, moving his arm so it was wrapped around you.

“I sure hope so. I don’t think I want you leaving. In any way. It’s selfish to want to keep you here and not with your family, but if you’d like you can stay. If you can, you can stay.” he said, moving a hand over to brush your hair back. “There’ll always be a place for you in Erebor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You teased, moving back to smile at him. Thorin cleared his throat and shifted underneath you.

“What do you think it means?” he said, smiling back lightly with an even lighter tint of red reaching his cheeks.

“He wants to court you (y/n)!” Fili yelled, breaking the sweet moment, but you found yourself smiling anyway.

“Has since you forged the story with the trolls!” Kili added. You ‘awed’ at Thorin.

“You’ve had a crush on me?” You teased, poking his chest lightly. He grabbed you fingers before your wandering fingers reached his neck. He must be extra ticklish there.

Duly noted for later.

“If I’m not correct, I’ve seen you spending your fair share of time staring at me too.” he countered, watching as a blush soon rose to your cheeks.

“Enough wit’ the teasin’, just say ‘yes’ lass and get it over and done wit’.” Dwalin groaned, and you let out a laugh.

“Fine, yes! Where’s the courting bead!” You said, throwing your hands in the air to emphasize the point. You did want to get to sleep tonight.

Balin wandered over, one of his hands pulling out of his pocket.

“I’ve been carrying these around since before Erebor fell, and I must say I couldn’t be much happier if you were a dwarf.” he said, placing the bead in Thorins hand as he lent down to give your cheek a kiss. Balin was like a father to Thorin, and definitely a figure you’d want to be happy with you. Hearing him say that left your heart skipping a beat.

“Thank you Balin.” you said, smiling up at him as Thorin started playing with a few strands of your hair.

Over your travels, you’d gathered approximately three beads of your own already woven into your hair. The first was there when you first woke in Middle-Earth; it had the initials of you families first names on it, you guessed do you wouldn’t forget them. The second was one that the boy you found had given you; plump and almost sticky fingers pulling it out of his hair to give to you. The third was one you’d made; it had the patterns of dragon scales on it, you didn’t know why that pattern stuck out to you, but it did.

You gave the third one to Thorin. Dragon fire had done much to him, but it made him who he was now, and for that and only that you were grateful.

That night you and Thorin fell asleep in each others arms, two new braids and bead in you hair, and you thought that troupe in movies and stories about lovers staring out hating each other wasn’t quite as corny as you originally thought.

It was actually rather romantic.


	8. Where Your Familiar Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood holds secrets. Everyone knows that. Who would’ve guessed some were about (y/n)?

The night came and went, as did the morning, and you soon found yourself on the road again, however on horseback, which was much better then having to walk. And before you knew it, Gandalf was abandoning the Company to go up to the mountains.

Thorin was being nice and sweet, keeping you close as you and the other dwarfs made the journey through the darkness that was Mirkwood forest. Needless to say, you still managed to get lost. Which you found disappointing since you tried your best not to do that.

Mainly because you didn’t fancy getting caught in the webs of a group of giant spiders. But hey, there you were, hanging upside-down in a mess of tangled web-work, Bifur on your one side and Oin on your other. Naturally Bilbo was nowhere to be seen, even so you hoped he’d come back soon, this one spider was creeping you up in a very wrong way.

As you hung, you started to think.

What Did Azog mean by ‘earth-shiftier’?

Did you actually Agree to marrying Thorin Oakenshield?

Was Bilbo ever going so show up to save you from the spiders?

The answer to your last question was 'yes’, since the hobbit then decided to make an appearance, and your second question was also answered when Thorin was set free; the king instantly setting to work finding then freeing you.

Now you were left wondering about your first question. As you and the Company decided to try to leave the spider-filled spot, you found yourselves surrounded by elves. Ones that would lead you to the jackass known as Thranduil.

You were searched, swords and daggers taken from your possession, and then to be shoved in the direction of these elves residence.

You had to admit, you felt you might not enjoy this, especially with how Legolas kept looking at you.

—–

Later, much to your surprise, you were taken away from the company and with Thorin towards Thranduil.

As you were taken along the wooden walkways you couldn’t help but look around in awe. Mirkwood was beautiful. It made you sure that Erebor would be completely breathtaking.

As you approached the foot of what could be described as the throne room, Thranduil rose from his elevated position to sneer down at Thorin.

“Dwarfs in Mirkwood forest. Why must you taint the area further?” he asked, tilting his head to look at Thorin with more distaste then before. “With a dwarrowdam no less…” his voice trailed off as be finally looked at you, eyes widening as a look of shock reached his narrow features. “Ilya-nya?”

You looked up at him, confused beyond words, especially since you had no idea what he just said. Thorin looked at you, also not understanding, however due to not knowing how Thranduil seemed to know you.

“Pardon? Have we met before?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow up at the elf as his face morphed from shock to surprise to hurt.

“You don’t remember? Have you really forgotten me (m/n)?” you laughed as his questions, earning an even more hurt look from the taller king.

“You’ve messed up Thranduil, sir.” you started, looking up at him again after shooting a look back at Thorin. “(m/n) is my mother. My name is (y/n), not whatever gibberish you just said.”

“Mother?…” you nodded as he seemed to soak in your words. You looked over at Thorin, he only shrugged. He mustn’t know what Thranduil was on about either. "Is she still alive? Did she have anymore children? Where does she live?” he then asked, boring his eyes into yours with a sort of desperation.

“Um, she’s alive. I think. Last time I saw her she was.” he nodded as you spoke, walking back up to his throne as you continued. “She does/doesn’t have more children. And she lives back in (hometown). Which isn’t here-”

“I know that.” he said, looking between you and Thorin. “At least she took a better fate than l initially thought.”

"Sorry, l still don’t follow-”

“She was an earth-shiftier, I’m guessing like you are. Beings - usually humans - that with training can switch between different worlds, usually their home-world and a select few fictional ones.” Thranduil explained, almost nonchalantly.

“So she’s not here to protect me?” Thorin asked, moving to stand between you and Thranduil.

“Of course not.” he scoffed. “How she ended with such low-lives like you all, I’ll never know. But do know this; she won’t be traveling with you now she’s here with people worth her time.”

“Excuse me! Why? You can’t do that!” you yelled.

Thranduil waved his hand at you. “You’re (m/n)’s daughter. (m/n) was my wife, Queen of Mirkwood, mother of my son and heir, Legolas. My Star. As you are her child you are mine too. An elfish Princess, despite your short stature. And no child of mine will be seen with dwarfs.” he redirected his last words at Thorin, Venom lacing each word with little effort. It almost made you sick.

“Thorin is My One! I wouldn’t dream of ever leaving him. Not for a fancy title, any riches, or anyone; no matter who they are.” you said, biting into Thranduil before Thorin could even open his mouth. “He and the company are my family, and family means we stick together-”

"Even through Dragon-fire? Through the horrors of Erebor and the danger of orcs?” Thranduil asked, standing again from where he was once sitting. “you are young to this world, (y/n). You know nothing of what would come for you if you went with him.” Thranduil was, by now, very close. He was a fast walker and slow talker.

“She stays with me, as she wishes.” Thorin said, almost growling at the elf as he stood closer to you. Thranduil stood tall.

“Then she is doomed to fall. Just. Like. You.” he said in reply to Thorin, waving a hand at the guards nearby as he turned to you. “Rot here. l can wait forever for you to change your mind. Then we’ll see where your loyalty lies.” With that he turned away, and you and Thorin were taken down to the rest of the company.

—–

The cell you were put in was opposite Thorins, which you were grateful for.

Now you had time to think.

An earth-shiftier could, basically, travel between their world and fictional ones. Your mother was one too, and she became the lost Queen of Mirkwood. She’d spoken about a time before she met your father, a where she met a man that treated her like a queen. Now you realize she genuinely was, and Legolas was your elder half-brother.

“You alright (y/n)?” Thorin asked, leaning up against the bars of his cell to see you clearer in the darkness of yours. “Don’t worry about what that oaf said. I won’t let anything hurt you while there’s breath in my lungs.” You smiled lightly at his words.

“I know, Thorin. I guess that worries me as much as his words do.”

“You shouldn’t listen to him. He cares about no one but himself, his every word is a lie. He should know better than to doubt my ability to keep you safe.”

“And yet,” you started with a breathy laugh, “I still know I need to protect you instead. I know what happens to you, and I’ll still do anything to keep you safe. Something is going to have to give, Thorin.” You had stood to look at him, and you could tell Balin was listening in.

“No such thing will happen. We’ll both be safe once we get to Erebor.” you hid a cringe but turning away. He was so hopeful.

“And yet, as much as I want to believe you, I still feel one of us won’t make it.”


	9. Too Close, But Not Close Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you journey further towards Erebor, and out of Mirkwood, you soon find that things aren’t exactly playing out to how you remember. Did your appearance in the land of Middle-Earth mean that events change completely?

Time, thankfully, passed by quickly.

Thorin took the time he had stuck across from you to educate you a little with the history of Erebor and it’s people. In fact everyone did, and by the time Bilbo came around to take you away you’d heard a mix of almost every story of Erebor there was to tell. 

It was very educational.

When the company managed to clamber as silently as they could to the cellar, you knew your time was running thinner than you originally thought. Your newfound relationship with Thranduil mean he placed extra guards and a tighter schedule for guard-changes around your cells. He really had no intention of letting you leave, which made you a little uneasy. 

“Everyone, the barrels!” Bilbo said, managing to get his words out just as guards started making a ruckus outside. You’re willingness to cooperate made Thorin urge everyone into the remaining barrels without too much protesting. 

It was just your luck that Kili climbed into the same barrel as you. 

Bilbo pulled the lever to release you, and you all dropped into the water with a stomach-churning splash. A few moments later, Bilbo joined you all in the water, and the guards above started yelling orders at everyone who’d take them to stop you in whatever way they could. 

“Come on, let’s go.” Thorin said, and everyone started paddling their barrels further out from underneath the cellar. 

Eventually the river started pulling you along, the need to paddle was no more, and Thorin yelled out again.

“Hold on!” then you were plunged into a huge set of rapids, and elves started gathering at the river banks like they’d been there since you first started paddling. As the river rushed you further down, Legoals yelled ahead at the gatekeeper in elvish.

“Shut the gate!” A horn blew, and the guards at the gate started closing the metal door until it was shut. You were trapped, and protests started from all dwarves in your party. You saw the elven guards above draw their swords, but the one closest was shot with a black arrow before he could approach you further. He dropped to the water between the barrels, but you managed to snag his sword before he was out of reach.

“Orcs!” you yelled, right after a huge number of the creatures swarmed out of the nearby bushes, meeting with your group in a clash of weapons and bare fists.

“Kili, the leaver!” You told the dwarf next to you, handing him the sword you’d gained and hosting him up towards the leaver as the others continued fighting. He fights his way up the stairs with help from the others, and reaches the top without too much trouble. Wasn’t it harder in the movie?

A whistle of an arrow shoots the question right out of your mind.

“(y/n)!” Thorin yells, and you look to your right to see a black arrow was stuck in the barrel next to you. 

Bolg was aiming his arrows at you, not Kili. 

The orc got another arrow read to shoot, but was stopped when an elfish arrow hit him square in the shoulder. Yelling in both elfish and orcish was heard, and Legolas came through from the bushes along the river, searching for you with a hard gaze. When his eyes met yours, you swore you saw him smile in seeing you were okay. 

You always did want a brother like Legoals. 

A yell from Kili snapped your attention back to your group. He did get shot after all, now crumbled to the ground in pain, and he’d almost had the gate open. You spared a glance at Thorin, whose eyes seemed to read your thoughts, and he shook his head as if to tell you no. 

You ignored him. Grabbing a weapon from on of the fallen bodies, you started to climb your way up to help Kili. 

As an orc approached, you readied your weapon to strike, but it was shot down before it could get close. You turned to see Legolas again, running towards you and ridding his path of orcs as he went. He was speaking to you in elfish, which you started to think he didn’t know you didn’t understand. You ignored Legolas’ attempts at speaking to you and went back to helping Kili, an act that made Legoals’ words more harsh and demanding.

You reached Kili and the leaver, choosing to re-open the gate before helping Kili to stand. With a grunt, the leaver moved and freed your friends, and then, after dealing with another orc, helped Kili to stand enough to get him back in your barrel, but your forearm was grabbed onto before you could follow.

“(y/n), haven’t you heard me!” Legoals started, pulling you back from the ledge, “You need to go back to Thranduil.”

“(y/n)!” You heard Thorin yell, from below. The barrels had moved too far for you to jump into one with someone else. You’d have to just jump into the water. You tried to tug your arm away from Legoals, but his grip was like steel.

“Let me go!” You said, tugging again.

“No, we need to get you back-”

“You’re hurting me!” Your declaration of pain seemed to shock the blond, and you took that as your chance to rip free and jump into the water to follow the others.

The water was cold, colder than it was when you were in the barrel, and it seemed the only thing that kept you moving in the right direction among the swell was the noise the others were making. 

You felt very sorry for Bilbo.

It felt like only moments, however long as they might’ve been, before you were pulled up to hang onto one of the barrels edges. 

“Don’ worry lass, just hang on.” Dwalin said, making sure you were going to be alright hanging on to the barrel yourself before going back to fighting the orcs as they came at everyone from along the riverbank.

Everything passed by in a blur, from the dwarves beating off the oncoming orcs into the river, to the elves continuing after the orcs and killing them. That wasn’t right. Thranduil would never had let his soldiers come after the company in the movie. 

But then again, you weren’t with them in the movie. You weren’t in a movie at all. This was very real. 

You weren’t sure if it was from the water, the cold, or the fact that nothing was going how you remembered, but you started panicking. 

Among the roar of the waves, and the changing fight, Thorin managed to spot your distress on top of the emotions of being rattled on the edge of the barrel. 

“Dwalin, (y/n)!” he said sharply, gaining the attention of the former as your grip started slipping, and he quickly grabbed hold of your arm to make sure you would stay close. 

“Have you cut down the tree yet?” you asked Dwalin, eyes opening and closing in a lazy manner. Dwalin looked down at you like you’d sprouted an extra limb. 

“Aye Thorin, your gal’s talking nonsense!” he called ahead to the king. Thorin looked back, momentarily taking himself away from the fight.

“What?” he asked, brow furrowing in complete confusion.

“She’s asked about a tree-”

“That tree!” Fili said, pointing to the broken tree lying across the river, by now having a few orcs climbing onto it to try and reach the others below better. 

As Thorin, Bofur and Dwalin all float under the tree, they all reach up to start cutting it. Everything fell to plan this time, and you found that with that came a comfort that something was going right, as well as a strange surge of energy. 

By now Legolas was doing his fancy elf stuff. You were slightly glad you got paired with the dwarfs instead of elves, and yet you wondered if he got his dramatic flair from just Thranduil, or you mother also. 

Eventually the river moved fast enough that the barrels traveled out of reach of the remaining orcs, and the elves all hesitated in following, all looking back at a stopped Legolas to see what they’d do next. 

You spared a glance back at the blond, seeing him set an order out, supposedly telling the others to head back, before looking back at you too. You felt it wasn’t going to be your last time crossing paths with your elven half-brother.


	10. His Name was Khalin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the company out of the orcs way for now, another problem is faced; Bard the Bowman, and the only way for you all to get to Laketown.

“Who’re you lot?” You’d barely managed to climb out of the river - with Thorin’s help when a man came. He brandished a loaded bow, pointing it right at Kili. You knew the man as Bard, but your company did not.

They all instantly went on the defense, even Kili, whom had barely managed to stand, took it upon himself to try and throw a rock at the human. Not that it worked.

“Try it again and you die.” Bard said, having already shot the rock out of Kili’s hand. Balin moves closer to Bard, now able to see the barge behind the man. 

“You’re from Laketown, correct? That barge wouldn’t be for hire by any chance?” Bard lowered his bow and looked over your group, eyes catching on yours for a moment, surprise flashing in his before he moved away back to the barge. The others followed, and you moved to help Kili but Thorin grabbed your arm before you could really move at all.

“Fili has him, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, frowning, and moved his hand to yours from your arm. 

“Erebor is ahead, now more home to a dragon than my kin.” he started softly, “I want, and I don’t wish to come off as overbearing, but I want you to try and stay out of danger.”

“If you’re asking me to stay in Laketown-”

“No.” he interrupted, looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen him look before, “I’m just asking you to be careful. If, or when the time comes that calls for one of us to-”

“Don’t!” You said, unintentionally gaining the attention of a few company members. “Neither of us are, are leaving each other in any way.” You squeezed his hand, and you swore he managed to swallow every negative emotion right then and there. “We’ll go through this together, okay?” 

“Okay.” he nodded, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a chase but soft and loving kiss to your knuckles. A slight rise in volume from the company served as your cue to go back and join them.

“Nothing you could pay would be worth the risk you run.” Bard said, clearly more stubborn than originally anticipated, even when offered double the amount of coin that the passage was worth. 

“Sir, please,” you started, stepping forward with a frown, “I understand you care about what could happen to you, leaving your children without a father, but what we’re doing is bigger than all of us.” Bard eyed you as you spoke, and you felt he still didn’t believe you. “Take my word as truth when I say that I know you’d do anything for your children. I know what it’s like to lose a child, and I would never wish it on anyone else.” Bard eyed you up and down, as if only now seeing you properly.

“How should I believe you? You could be telling lies for all I know.” he said, starting to wind rope up in his arms.

“His name was Khalin.” you started and he turned back to you. And now everyone was watching. “I may not have given him life but he was mine, and when I lost him it was like no pain I’ve ever felt before. Believe me when I say we mean to stop a tragedy much greater than that. Help us, please, and we will all be forever grateful.” 

Your words seemed to strike a cord in Bard. He let out a sigh and gestured to the barrels.

“I suppose, then, it’d be a sin to not let you pass.” he said, moving aside from the boat to let you pass on.

You guessed, despite everything that was going wrong in your version of Middle-Earth, things could be going worse.


	11. Those of Laketown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laketown holds friends and foes. All you need to do is figure out which ones are which.

It was so nice to finally be warm again. But in your heart you were very troubled.

Here with Bard and his family was to be one of the last times you’d have the Company all together, at least when they were all in a right mind. You were the only one who knew that. 

As you got closer to Erebor, and to the Arkenstone, you worried more and more. The issue of exactly how you’d manage to save all three of Durin’s line was in no way clear, but to you it became clear that you’d have to make a choice. 

There was no way to save all three, not in the time you had.

In the movies, Fili died first, being captured by Azog and other Orcs, and without any extra people straying from the main battle to fight, you would be majorly outnumbered, and out-experienced. 

Kili was with Taruriel, and with an extra person there to help them both out with that beastly Orc, he’d have a much better chance of staying alive. Even so, he was in no way ready to be a king, Fili was the one who’s have been trained for that, if either of them were trained at all.

Thorin, in theory, is easy. Azog got to him because he was stuck on the ice too long. He’d be fine if you got him away from the ice, and if you helped him. He’s also the most obvious choice to pick. He’s the king already. 

You’d hate to pick between the two brothers. One would have a horrible life without the other. And you’d not be able to live with yourself if they both died while you were here. But then there was the larger battle, and you remember watching ‘Battle of Five Armies’ and wishing there was more people or creatures to fight the Orc army. 

They needed something big to be on their side, to help them sooner, before the eagles and Beorn got around to help. But what would be able to help take on so many creatures without help? 

“You look deep in thought. Something troubles you.” Balin said, coming to sit beside you from his place across the room. “Care to share the burden?” he offered softly. You shook your head.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t know, he had always offered to hear about your worries. Balin knows a lot already, and yet he’s always willing to hold onto more. Yet you still can’t say, not really. 

“I worry over the future, and the event’s I know are ahead. Troubles such as mine are not meant for you, not until the future is the past.” you kept your voice low, not wanting to add to the worries of everyone else. You kept your eye on Kili, eyes drawn to his leg over and over. No one else noticed the severity of what the young prince was going through. 

“You carry much, and yet you have too few people to share it with.” Balin smiled at you, offering kindness. “I must say I both pity and envy you. Pity for you have no one to help, and envy because you know how this ends.” You smiled back with a laugh. 

“Thanks Balin. You always bring a new perspective, if nothing else." 

"Excuse me, miss?” Bard’s youngest daughter, Tilda, came up to you, standing on the side unoccupied by Balin. You smiled at her as a way of telling her to continue. “Why are you travelling?” she asked, and you hesitated for a moment. 

You could feel the eyes of most of the Company on you now, and you looked up to meet Thorin’s eyes. His eyes were saying 'no, don’t say a word’, but you wondered what else you were supposed to say.

“I’m helping. Some things can only be done by a female, and as you can tell, without me theses lot would be greatly lacking. Now they’re only lacking.” you added the last statement with a smile, and Tilda smiled back. All of Bard’s children were good, brave, and curious. You liked them for that.

“Here to that lass.” Dwalin said, smiling, and others made noise and murmurs of agreement. 

“We’d be lost without you (y/n)."Thorin added, looking at you with glossy eyes. For the life of you, you couldn’t pick what emotion was behind them, but you could only guess it was good. 

Later, the Company were able to sneak away to the armory, which confused you because of how loud they all were, especially since then you had to wait around until it was fully dark to do anything. You joined the ones that were to enter the armory and gather weapons, but before you could do much other than fill your arms with weapons, Kili had dropped everything he was holding down the stairs, drawing attention to you and your group.

Quickly after being held at sword-point, the Company was taken away to meet the Town Master. How you loathed him in the movies for how he treated the people of Laketown. You held no pity for the man, and relished in the fate that was to await him when Smaug came. 

His right hand was no better. 

"A desperate bunch of mercenaries if ever there was sire.” Alfrid sneered, looking at you and your friends as if you were just another Laketown resident he could pester. Dwalin wasn’t having any of it, and frankly - now you were paying attention - neither were you. 

“Hold your tongue,” Dwalin started, stepping forward with courage you didn’t find in that moment between the two speaking. “You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror.” He said, and Thorin stepped forward, sending you a small smile before addressing the weasel in front of you.

“We are the Dwarves of Erebor.” Thorin said, and you liked around at the people to see them start to murmur among themselves. “We have come to reclaim our homeland.” He started looking around too. “I remember this town in the great days of old, fleets of boats lay at harbor, filed with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake, this was the center of all trade in the North.” the crowds all stirred, agreeing with Thorin’s words, “I would see those days return, I would relight the great forges of the dwarves, and see wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!" 

And right on cue, Bard came along, and you stepped right back aside. This wasn’t something you’d interfere with. Not yet. 

"Death, that is what you will bring upon us.” Bard said, stepping up to face Thorin. “Dragonfire and ruin.” Thorin stopped, glancing at you. You looked at him, shaking you head. You couldn’t tell him the truth, you couldn’t lie either. He knew that, yet he kept looking at you as if to ask what to do next. “If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all." 

"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this, if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain.” Thorin started, and you found yourself smiling at his willingness to share the treasure of Erebor. “You will have enough gold to rebuild ten times over.”

“All of you, listen to me!” Bard said to the crowd, and the smile disappeared off your face, forgetting about the fact that - while Thorin had good intentions - Bard was right too. “You must listen. Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose?” Bard turned back to Thorin, “The blind ambition of a mountain king. So ribboned by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire." 

The crowds were torn. Some agreed with Bard, while others Thorin. The Master started speaking again, aiming to make a fool out of Bard, but you had no desire to listen, instead you looked around, taking in the faces of the townsfolk, the company, Thorin and Bard. 

As Alfrid started speaking you paid attention, unable to stop the hate bubbling in your belly, red and hot. You stepped forwards between Bard and Thorin to defend Bard against the Townmaster and Alfrid. 

"Oh, and dare say what were your ancestors doing while his were fighting something greater then each one of you?” You said, “Running like the pitiful scum you’ve turned out to become, I can guess?” Thorin opened his mouth to stop you, but you spoke up again before he could. “You say to not be quick to blame, then right after laid it right on Bard, even though he wasn’t even there when Lord Gideon was trying to do something you’d be too much of a coward to do yourself! It is not Bard’s fault the dragon still lives." 

The crowds seemed to agree with your words. None of them acted harshly towards Bard, and instead nodded along, and laughed at your accusations against the Master, knowing you were telling the truth. 

Bard cast a glance at you, nodding lightly, then turned to Thorin. "You have no right to enter that mountain.” Thorin moved to stand between you and Bard, keeping you close behind him.

“I have every right.” he said, then turned back to the Master. “I speak to the Master of the Lake, will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people? What say you?” Thorin was really playing the Master’s love of money. He was playing it really well. 

“I say unto you, welcome!” The Master said, and the crowd cheered once more. “Welcome, King under the mountain!”


End file.
